


Do you all want to see something weird?

by needlemonkey



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Classroom Shenanigans, F/M, i am not an expert in anything i write pls no hate mail, i havent written fanfic in forever dont judge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 17:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20450513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needlemonkey/pseuds/needlemonkey
Summary: For a moment, Claude is sure the professor makes direct eye contact. He is unsure but he could swear he saw her pink tongue dart across her lips as she ponders whether or not she should say this out loud.“I have no gag reflex now.”As if on cue the boys across the room begin to splutter, caught off guard by a potentially indecent admission from their teacher.Claude is equally stunned. “Wow. I’ll unpack that one later.” He casually crosses his legs.--Byleth realises her lessonplan is kind of boring so she does something fucked up instead. Claude doesn't know how to react.





	Do you all want to see something weird?

**Author's Note:**

> I've been stalking the BylethxClaude tag for weeks I figured I should contribute something lol.
> 
> Please enjoy this dumpster fire.

Claude stifles a yawn as he takes his notes for today’s lecture.

He’s sat diligently at the front of the Golden Deer classroom. The seat with the best view of the professor.

Traditionally the head student of each class was supposed to sit up front and centre but it wasn’t until recently Claude had taken this part of his role seriously. It was his responsibility to keep detailed notes on behalf of those potentially absent.

“_Or sleeping_,” he thought, throwing a shady glance towards Hilda and Linhardt at the back of the room. Hilda held her head in her hands, long eyelashes fluttering open and closed as she willed herself to at least look like she was paying attention. Linhardt, Teach's newest recruit, was fully sprawled out with his face buried in his notebook.

Byleth had also noticed the two snoozing on opposite ends of the same faraway bench and took a moment to mutter something to herself. She then took a single manicured nail and elegantly dragged it down the length of the blackboard next to her lectern.

The resounding screech of her action echoed across the room. Claude felt the sound move right through him. Gritting his teeth he looked up towards the professor, who in turn offered an apologetic smile. She hadn’t realised his closeness to the board.

Thankfully it wasn’t a wasted effort. Hilda let out a short “eep!” at the sudden noise and Linhardt fully flailed his arms as he shot up in his seat, his back straight as a rod.

“Thank you for finally joining us, Hilda. Linhardt.” Byleth’s voice remained flat as ever as she admonished the two. The authority was there though. She was rarely angry -or rarely any kind of emotional when Claude thought back over the few months since he met his Teach- but the cool tone she often took when teaching left no room for insubordination of any kind. “Tell me, is my lecture not interesting enough for you two?”

Hilda clears her throat, trying to buy herself some time to come up with an excuse. Claude rolls his eyes.

“_Can’t wait to see how she gets herself out of this one_.”

He loves Hilda like a sister, but Claude also loves to watch her try and wriggle out of trouble. She’s good at it too, but Byleth is a worthy opponent. Her bullshit detector is on point and Claude knows this from personal experience.

Claude knows he’s a good liar. A master manipulator. He learned to pick his words carefully at a very young age. Each one deliberate in his purpose. He recognised his teacher as a potential asset from the moment he laid eyes on her in battle. Outside of battle she was just as impressive. While her emotional maturity seemed... lacking, she was an excellent judge of character. The Golden Deer house had almost doubled in size after all. Her keen eye able to pick out and recruit new allies was second to none.

Seteth had commented that the amount of transfers was greater this year than any other, as was the amount of paperwork included.

While Claude was quietly ecstatic that Teach had picked them -picked him- over the other two houses, her astuteness was a double edged sword. Those wide doe eyes looked straight through him. His jovial, if somewhat cheeky, front he naturally upheld in front of the world was nothing to that gaze of hers. He had been caught several times snooping around Garreg Mach by those eyes. Found countless times up too late in the library, devouring as much knowledge as he could find in order to further his aims.

Each time it was Byleth who found him, head cocked to one side and an eyebrow raised. Each time he offered a sly wink and another witty excuse. Each time he knew she could tell a lie when it dripped from his lips.

So Claude has taken to watching the professor in turn. Front seat. Back straight. Head up. Ready and willing to learn as much as he could, waiting to pick up any gesture or tick or anything he could to figure out the mercenary turned educator in front of him every day.

“_She's just so fucking interesting_,” he muses, not for the first time that day.

“I'm waiting, Miss Goneril.” Claude’s attention is snapped back to the standoff between teacher and student.

“You see, Professor.. um...,” Hilda stammers. It’s not often she’s stuck for an excuse. “I’ve just been training SO hard recently.. and uh.. with the monthly missions and everything I’ve not been keeping up with my beauty sleep.”

Byleth cocks an eyebrow as if to ask “_And your point is....?_”

“Well I’m sure you know how important sleep is for a growing girl like myself and others is, Professor. Right, Lysithea?”

“Keep me out of it, Hilda,” Lysithea deadpans from the front of the class.

Claude suppresses a chuckle. Of course Lysithea wasn’t going to play along. He glances up at Teach, who is -unsurprisingly- not impressed with Hilda's excuse. She turns to Linhardt, eyebrow still raised in question.

“I’m just bored.” He yawns and for a moment Claude admires his honesty.

Byleth lets out a long sigh.

“I suppose.. it has been a long few moons.”

“_HA! Understatement of the millennium, Teach_,” Claude thinks to himself. Between Flayn’s kidnapping and the business with the Holy Mausoleum -oh and Teach might be the descendant of fucking _Nemesis_ or something- the school year has certainly been stressful. They were barely halfway through the year too! Claude knew for a fact class motivation was starting to falter, no matter how many shared dinners and tea parties the professor held to keep it up.

“Perhaps today’s lecture was too.. heavy in regards to the amount of stress you have all been put through,” Byleth continues. “I admit my initial lesson plan was a little too.. intense seeing as we’ve not long come back from another mission.”

For a moment her shoulders go slack, and Byleth takes a moment to stare at the floor, gathering her thoughts.

“_Oh. She’s tired too..._” Claude has never seen her look so.. exhausted before. So vulnerable and so.. _human_. He watches closely as her eyes droop shut. “_Since when were her eyelashes so long?_” Claude wonders. He immediately bristles at the sudden thought. Where did that come from?

After a slightly too long pause to collect herself, Byleth raises her head.

“Alright,” she announces to the class. “Change of tactics. Time for a little Q&A. I could keep trying to fill your heads and hope that some of it sticks OR you could ask me things you actually do want to know.” The class stirs slightly, eyes across the room meeting as they all tried to figure out what their professor meant. Claude takes it upon himself to break the silence.

“Well now, Teach. Are you sure about this?” He smiles and leans his chair back, abandoning his quill and reaches a hand behind his head. “Aren’t you worried we’ll waste time or ask anything.. inappropriate for a classroom environment?” He winks.

“No, Claude.” She fixes him a blank look with her big doe eyes. “Ask away. Nothing is off topic. If my prepared material isn’t enough to keep interest or morale up let’s try switching it up. You might still learn something today.”

Class interest definitely picked up with that. A chance to grill the professor who kept everything so close to her (ample) chest!

“_This is perfect!_” Though he doesn’t show it he’s positively giddy at the thought of pressing Byleth for information. And it was open season! Nothing out of bounds. “_Opinions, anecdotes, childhood memories anything to figure her out! Please please please I want to learn all I can about you, Teach_”.

Leonie pipes up first.

“How long have you been fighting? When did Jeralt let you pick up a sword? What was it like traveling with him?” Of course she wanted to learn about Jeralt.

“Easy, Leonie. One at a time. My father started me off young. He handed me a sword as soon as I was big enough to wield one. It wasn’t until I beat him for the first time in a sparring match that he let me fight for real.”

Leonie looked incredulous.

“You _beat_ Captain Jeralt?” her jaw nearly hit the desk.

“He went easy on me. I had a training sword and he was barehanded. Still took me longer than I’d like to admit".

“_So she’s proud_.” Claude thinks. “_That’s a new one. And of course she’s been doing this since she was a child that one's obvious._”

“What’s your favourite food?”

“_Way to go for a boring question, Raphael. Like I can figure her out from her favourite dish._”

“Anything I can hunt, prepare and eat quickly. Efficiency is key on the road and when you’re feeding an entire company simple is best.”

Petra nods in agreement from the other end of Claude's bench.

“While I'm having understanding, Professor, I believed Raphael was asking of your favourite dish, not that which is easiest to prepare.”

The tips of Byleth’s ears go pink. Claude is stunned at the slight blush across her nose and cheeks.

“Well ah.. that would be strawberry shortcake... with extra cream.” Claude is slightly surprised at such a... girly answer. It was clear the professor had tried to keep this little Q&A educational but he could tell she was a little embarrassed to answer something personal candidly.

He wanted to tease her. He held his tongue.

Lysithea, eager to bring the conversation back to something even slightly educational raised her slim arm up in the air.

“Yes, Lysithea?” Byleth was equally eager to change the topic.

“We’ve learnt a lot about injuries recently, both on and off the field. What’s the worst injury you’ve sustained as a mercenary?”

“_Good. An old injury or physical weakness I can work with,_” Claude mused. He never wanted to come to blows with the professor but just in case.... Information was power after all. Just as powerful as physical strength in the right hands, despite what many thought back in his homeland.

Byleth took another moment to think.

“I’ve sustained quite a few over the years. I’m sure you’ve noticed the brace on my knee,” she gestures to the metal plate strapped around her left leg. “That was a riding accident though. I suppose the next worst one was a blow to my windpipe.”

From behind Claude, Ignatz hissed. That sure sounded painful. Leonie was unconvinced.

“That doesn’t sound terrible. I thought the _daughter_ of Captain Jeralt would be able to handle that sort of thing.” She looked smug, like she had beaten the professor in some way.

“_By the goddess, Leonie. What is with this competition between you and Teach?_” Leonie was fun and an excellent teammate, but Claude found this nonexistent rivalry infuriating sometimes.

Byleth seemed similarly exasperated by it. She turned that same cool stare she shot Hilda and Linhardt not ten minutes ago straight to Leonie.

“Again, Miss Pinelli, I was young and inexperienced at the time. I had been disarmed and my opponent was a Grappler. He struck my throat and crushed my collarbone. While I was struggling for breath he attempted to finish the job. I watched my father cut him down as I choked on spittle and bile. I was younger than you are now.”

The class fell silent. Claude watched as Leonie choked out an apology, her pride catching it up in her throat. Byleth’s shoulders dropped again.

“I’m sorry, class. That was unprofessional.”

Claude had never really seen regret on her face before. It was sort of beautiful, if not heartbreaking. How come she was tugging on his heart strings so much today? As much as he was transfixed by that look, he silently prayed to never see her face like that again.

The professor took in a deep breath.

“While the injury itself was not as serious as a mortal blow or a broken bone, I was entirely debilitated in that moment. Which is why I always say in hand-to-hand combat....” Byleth turns her gaze towards the only Grappler in her class.

“Always keep your chin tucked in,” Raphael grinned, happy to finally get a question right in class.

“Very good, Raphael,” Byleth seemed to relax slightly. “The blow itself didn’t take too long to heal, thankfully, but it was not without lasting consequence.”

For a moment, Claude is sure the professor makes direct eye contact. He is unsure but he could swear he saw her pink tongue dart across her lips as she ponders whether or not she should say this out loud.

“I have no gag reflex now.”

As if on cue the boys across the room begin to splutter, caught off guard by a potentially indecent admission from their teacher.

Claude is equally stunned. “_Wow. I’ll unpack that one later._” He casually crosses his legs.

The girls all seem unfazed by this confession. That or they did not understand the _implication_. All except for Hilda who shoots up from her seat.

“Wyvern shit!”

“Language, Miss Goneril,” Byleth’s icy stare returns.

“What I mean to say is, Professor,” Hilda tosses back a pigtail and recomposes herself. “That is a pile of wyvern droppings. You don’t just lose a gag reflex.”

Marianne, the healing and medicine expert of the Golden Deer cranes her neck.

“Actually umm... a substantial amount of damage to the correct nerve... could cause such a symptom,” she squeaks, obviously embarrassed to be speaking out of turn. “It is possible.”

“Thank you, Marianne,” Byleth smiles kindly towards the shyest member of her class. It is a small gesture but easily read.

“_She’s getting better at the smiling thing_.” Claude is almost proud of her.

“Still, I want proof!” Hilda is not backing down. “Prove it, Professor I’m sure we all wanna see!”

The boys begin to rally. Of course they want to see.

“_What are you all? Stags in a rut? By the goddess,_” Claude wonders if he’s the only gentleman in the room sometimes. At least Lorenz is staying quiet too.

“Are you sure this is appropriate, Professor?” Lorenz raises a hand to his forehead as though he is about to swoon.

“We passed appropriate a while ago, Lorenz,” she replies.

Claude can’t quite place the look on his professor’s face. It’s _something_ like the look she gets when she comes up with something risky on the battlefield. Like she knows she _shouldn’t_ but can’t resist the impulse.

“Do you all want to see something weird?”

The Golden Deer begin to cheer, even Lysithea and Ignatz are intrigued.

“Flayn, if I do this will you promise not tell your brother a word?” Byleth implores the smallest member of her class.

“_How risky is this going to be?_” Claude is on the edge of his seat as Flayn nods fervently.

“Absolutely, Professor. My lips are sealed,” Flayn agrees excitedly.

Byleth turns her back to the class, removing her overcoat.

“_Were her shoulders always so broad?_” Claude wonders. “_Is she trying to work herself up for something?_”

Suddenly, the professor spins on her heel and raises her arms into the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Garreg Mach Officer’s Academy!” There’s a strange expression on her face. She is... _different_. As though she’s putting on a show. Claude recognises the smile she gives. It’s one he’s seen reflected on his own face many times.

“_A smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes._”

“May I have a volunteer from the audience?”

Sylvain shoots up from his seat because _of course he does_. Byleth smiles wider.

“_What the fuck is happening?_” Claude knows he isn’t the only one thinking this.

Byleth throws Sylvain the apple from on top of her desk and directs him to the other end of the room.

“Felix, may I borrow your blade?” she reaches a graceful hand towards the surly black haired boy. Felix eyes her hand suspiciously. Claude can’t resist the opportunity and calls out.

“Go on now, Felix. Be a _deer!_” Claude relishes in the collective groan of the classroom. He’s sure he sees Teach stifle a chuckle.

Felix relents and unsheathes his blade reluctantly. Byleth curtsies as she takes the weapon in hand.

“My dear assistant,” she calls to Sylvain. “ Please throw that apple at me as hard as you can.”

“Um.. are you sure, Professor?” he hesitates. Byleth’s facade breaks for a moment as her usual trademark expression shines through.

“Just do it, Sylvain.” The boy nods and reels back an arm.

Byleth slices the fruit cleanly in two as it hurtles towards her. With a flourish she glides the blade through the air and holds it high above her head.

“As you can see this is a genuine blade. No tricks here today folks.” The fake smile is back on her face as she calls out to the class. The theatre has come to the Golden Deer classroom today it seems. Claude has never seen her look so _animated_ before.

“Claude, my boy!” he bristles at the sound of his name. Their eyes lock once more. “May I have a drumroll, please?”

All Claude can do in this moment is comply. He’s not sure he likes where this is going but by Sothis he is going to find out. He is mesmerised by the sound of her voice and the smile on her face. He wants to make that smile _real_.

He begins drumming his hands on the table in front of him, slowly bringing up the tempo as Byleth grabs the tip of the blade, turning it upside down. The crowd gasps as she tilts back her head.

“_Her skin looks so pale_.” Claude stares at the elegant slope of her neck. “_I wonder how much darker I’d look against her_.” He shakes his head and carries on the beat, speeding up once more. His heart is beating just as quickly.

Byleth opens her mouth wide and extends her tongue. Marianne looks like she is about to faint as the professor guides the blade down, resting it at the back of her throat.

And slowly, inch by inch, she swallows it. The class can only watch in silent horror as she gradually lets it slide down her throat. In what seems like years, the hilt finally meets her chin. She lets go and spreads her arms out wide.

The Golden Deer go fucking _wild_. The applause is deafening. Claude is sure he’s never heard Raphael bellow so loud in his life.

Byleth reaches back up to the hilt of the blade and gradually brings it up and out of her oesophagus. Claude’s hands fall to his sides, palms stinging. He hadn’t realised how hard he had been drumming away. He can only watch as the muscles of Byleth’s throat move to accommodate the intrusion within.

Finally, the blade is removed and Byleth swings it through the air, twirling it between her deft hands and striking a triumphant pose, before bowing deeply to her enraptured audience. While her face is back to normal- _thank the gods_\- her ears are pink again, clearly flushed at all the attention. She takes a cloth from her desk and wipes the blade clean. When she extends the sword back to its owner, Felix coughs.

“Perhaps you should keep it, Professor.”

“I’ll take it!” Sylvain is back in his seat.

“Like hell you will,” Byleth deadpans once again, face as stoic as ever. She tosses Felix a small bag of coins. “Here, get yourself a new one on me.”

Felix gratefully accepts.

“I don’t suppose there are any practical applications for that in battle,” his brows are furrowed in concentration.

“Goddess no!” Byleth glares again, at the whole class this time. “And if I ever catch any of you trying that yourselves I will have you on stable duty for the remainder of the school year. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the students reply in chorus.

“And I trust this will stay between us, Flayn?”

“Absolutely, Professor,” Flayn is grinning so hard Claude thinks her face may stick that way. “But may I ask why you can do that?”

“Well like I said before mercenary life can be difficult. You do anything you can to make just a little extra coin. The men always said I had an uncanny knack for the theatrical.” And then Byleth fucking _winks_. Hilda squeals.

“Who fucking taught you to wink?”

“Language, Miss Goneril!” Byleth’s stare is hard as ever, before she turns and fires another wink in Claude's direction. “Why it was Mr. Von Riegan of course.”

Claude feels like he’s been shot through the chest.

“_Oh no. This is bad_,” he thinks, but he swallows the feeling in his chest and shoots a wink right back.

Teach has given him a lot to think about.

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about sword swallowing I just wanted to make Claude sweat.


End file.
